


Bir Ask Hikayesi (A Love Story-Second Chance)

by PrudenceKimberly



Category: Bir Ask Hikayesi
Genre: Anger, Canon - TV, Comfort, Family, Forgiveness, Hurt, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrudenceKimberly/pseuds/PrudenceKimberly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is based on a Turkish Series that aired in 2013 with the same title of Bir Ask Hikayesi, which means A Love Story. It's an orphan's journey as he searches for the family that abandoned him when he was a baby. A journey of anger, of love, of compassion, of forgiveness.<br/>You do not need to know the original series to understand the story, since I am basically rewriting it from the get go.<br/>I do not own the original series, nor do I own the original characters, other wise it would not have ended like it did! I merely own any new characters that I develop, as well as the changes I made to the plot and events of the story.<br/>I do hope you enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N: this story takes place in Turkey. It is based on a series that aired in 2013 called A Love Story, or Bir Ask Hikayesi as the title is in Turkish. The plot belongs to the original writers, as well as some of the original characters. Any changes I made to the characters, names, events or plot are mine. Any new characters are also mine.**

**You do not need to watch the series to understand the story, since I am basically re-writing it because the ending got on my nerves.**

* * *

It was a cold, winter night in Istanbul. Most of the residents were either gathered around the fires, or whatever source of heat they used to shield them from the near freezing temperature. Others took the chance to cozy up to their significant others in restaurants, and inside movie theaters.

This road in particular was more deserted than the main roads, it was a desolate route that not many people knew about, which led from the sea-shores, and some of the cafes that still dared open by the shore in this weather, to the residential parts of the ancient city. But it mainly led to low-income housing; before the more upscale houses would come into view. 

 

Fetune Karahnli was a popular singer, a respected member of society, and a devoted mother. She loved being on stage, her smile shining bright when her fans cheered her on, her eyes glinting happily whenever she walked into a store, or passed a car and heard her own voice filtering through the speakers. But as happy as she was with her career, nothing brought her more joy than the man sitting in the driver's seat, expertly maneuvering the car through the winding, deserted road.

Fajr Karahnli, her son, her pride and joy, her miracle.....her second chance.

 

She smiled adoringly at him, as she thought back to her own childhood, and how different it was from the one she provided for her son. She was by no means poor growing up; her father being one of the textile mongols of the country had established their place in the highest ranks of the social pyramid, and set her up for a life of luxury from the day she was born.

Her mother, Karima Karahnli, had taken that position far too seriously, instilling discipline and decorum in her daughter since the day she could walk. Her childhood was not cheerful, and carefree like one might assume in light of all the money they possessed. Because her mother had always insisted that image was everything.

She was never allowed outside of her room in her sleep clothes, casual wear was something she never even dreamed of owning, let alone wearing, and everything ran on schedules. She had sworn at a very young age, that if she ever had a child of her own, that she will never do that to them.

For eventually, in an attempt to keep up the family's image in the public's eye, her mother's almost-tyrannical streak had cost her much more than her childhood.

 

She smiled as she remembered her mother's horror when a four-year old Fajr had strutted down the stairs in his sleepwear, unceremoniously climbing onto his mother's lap, before he even attempted to tell her he was not feeling well. Her smirk had grown when she remembered the daggers she sent her way, when Fetune didn't even blink in surprise at her son's behavior. Merely combed his hair back, pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, before she greeted him, and asked him to greet his grandmother.

 

She had her own share of money now, separate from her inheritance from her father, thanks to her singing career, and she had insisted that she raised her son in as a healthy environment as she could under the spotlight, and give him the childhood she never had.

And looking at him right now, barely even twenty-six of age, and already a successful architecture, she couldn't be prouder of him, and she guessed that she lived up to her promise.

 

"Thanks for the evening, sweetheart," she said softly, and he smiled brightly at her, as he took her hand into his, and kissed it softly.

"Anytime, Mom. It's the least I can do. I know how much you love that place by the sea, and we haven't been out like that in a while."

"Yeah, well, you're Mr. Hot-Shot Architect now, you don't have time for your poor old mother," she teased gently.

He chuckled, knowing her well enough to know that there wasn't any real venom behind that comment. "I always have time for you, Mom. You're my number one," he vowed adoringly, his eyes flickering over to her briefly, the love shining in them warming her heart, and an almost sad sigh escaped her lips, as they both turned their attention back to the road.

 

Fajr frowned slightly, and turned the knob on the radio, lowering the already soft music that was humming in the car, to a barely audible level, as he craned his neck, and squinted into the darkness.

"What is it?" he heard his mother ask, but didn't answer her, simply stepped on the gas pedal, before slamming the breaks suddenly.

"Fajr!" she exclaimed in both surprise, and horror alike, but he didn't hear her, as he practically jumped from the car, and her own eyes widened in horror as they now settled on the cause of her son's distress.

 

Three men, who didn't look that much older than her own son, had a young girl trapped between them, and tried to restrain her, but she seemed strong enough to put up enough of a fight to keep all three of them off of her.

Fajr rushed over to them, swiftly landing a right hook onto one, sending him into the wall, and incapacitating him for the time being, as he now turned his attention to the other two. They seemed to be drunk, barely having enough energy to stand straight, but no coordination whatsoever that might help them fight off the angry stranger. He easily pried the girl away from their hands, and pushed her towards his mother - who had exited the car - and quickly gathered the now shaking girl into her arms, and ducked both of them inside the car, swiftly locking it behind them.

 

She looked over to her son, and saw him fighting off the two still standing, who were stupid enough to try and get in a few punches of their own, which he easily dodged.

She turned her attention back to the shaking girl in her arms, who was now clinging to her coat, as shallow, ragged breaths escaped her trembling lips.

"It's alright, sweetheart, you're safe now. Just try and take a deep breath," she soothed, one hand instinctively pushing the hair that was sticking to her sweaty face behind her ear, and gently cupping her chin to lift her face to try and catch her gaze, hoping that it would ground her. "It's okay, it's over. They can't get to you here," she tried again, her thumb moving gently over the girl's cheek.

The girl seemed to calm down a bit when she saw her, and her eyebrows knitted together slightly. "Yo....you.....you....."she stuttered through her ragged breaths.

"Shush, honey. Don't try to talk right now, just focus on getting your breathing under control for now," she countered gently, her eyes flickering over to her son once more, and saw him giving a warning chase after the guys, who had taken off running.

"You're Fetune Karahanli!" the girl rasped out, and Fetune smiled gently at her. "Yes, I am. And you are?" she inquired gently.

"Asya. Asya Demir."


	2. Chapter 2

The police station was bustling with movements around both women, officers coming and going, phones ringing, and radios coming to life. Asya was sitting on a chair in the waiting room, with Fetune's coat wrapped around her shoulders, and said woman's hands running up and down her arms soothingly. She was still shaking, despite her many efforts to get her nerves under control. She was leaning heavily on the older woman, and try as she might to get off of her, her body refused to cooperate. And if she was being completely honest with herself - which she seldom was - she liked the feeling. Fetune was a mother, so she had a warm, loving touch that could only come from a mother, and Asya had never experienced that, and probably never will. And so, she basked in the safety those arms provided, and allowed herself a moment of self indulgence in the warmth radiating off the older woman. 

She looked up when Fetune's son, Fajr, came into view and found him handing her a juice box. She smiled gratefully at him, as she took it, and tried to get her shaking hands to cooperate long enough to open it, smiling shyly when he crouched down in front of her, and opened it. 

"You both really didn't have to go through all of this trouble, I'm sure you've got other important things to worry about, and I don't wanna add to that. It's getting late, and I'm sure you're both tired," she ranted nervously, sitting up slightly, and accepting the now open box.

"Enough with the nonsense, and drink up. It should help calm you a little, I don't want you to faint," Fetune argued firmly, using her don't-argue-with-me tone that mothers usually master by the time the baby is a month old. 

Asya smiled shyly once more at her, and brought the straw to her lips, and drank. 

"Is there anyone we should call?" Fajr wondered, and she shook her head, letting go of the straw in the process. 

"What about your parents? I'm sure they're worried about you," Fetune retorted gently, frowning slightly when a sad, haunted look came over the girl's beautiful features. 

"I don't have any. I grew up in an orphanage, it's just me," she said softly, and something inside Fetune broke at the sound of her voice, and her statement re-opened an old wound. She shared a look with her son, but before either of them could open their mouths to apologize for prying, a door to their left opened, and a burly police officer appeared. 

"You can come in now," he told them, as he gestured to the office he just exited. 

All three walked in, with Asya still trapped between Fetune and Fajr, and still leaning slightly into Fetune's warm embrace. The lead detective was sitting behind a wooden desk, and rose from his seat to great them. After the introductions, he proceeded to ask them questions. He started with Asya, and she recounted her tale. She told him where she worked, how late she left, that this was her usual route to get home, and that they had been following her for a while, drunkenly shouting profanities and pick-up lines at her, before they gave chase, and eventually grabbed her. At that point, Fajr interrupted, and continued the tale, with the detective occasionally asking a question, and they all answered them the best they could. Fetune told him where they were having dinner, and asked him to confirm when they left, before they brought in sketch artists to draw the three men. 

About two hours after they entered the office, they were finally free to go home, with promises of updates on the case. Of course the fact that a famous singer was involved meant that said promise was going to be kept, especially when she made it clear that she will be following up herself. 

"Come on, let's get you home," Fajr said, once they were all out in the cold night air, but she shook her head. 

"No, there's no need for that. You have done more than enough already. I think I'm gonna get a taxi," she objected softly. 

"Don't be silly, it's no trouble at all. You really don't expect us to leave you alone in the middle of the night, do you?" Fetune argued, her hand gesturing to the backseat of the car, her other hand firmly holding the door open for Asya, indicating that she was not about to take no for an answer. 

Asya looked over at Fajr, who was smiling at his mother's antics, and who gave her a welcoming nod. She finally sighed in defeat, and with one last grateful smile at Fetune and Fajr, she climbed into the backseat. 

The drive was an hour long, with Asya giving them both directions to try and shorten it, as well as escape the late night traffic.

"Asya, how old are you?" Fajr asked conversationally.

"I just turned twenty-six last week," she replied, and Fetune's breath hitched in her throat, as the all-too-familiar pain shot through her heart. She moved her right hand over where her heart lay gently, trying to soothe the sudden pang within it at Asya's seemingly innocent words. "Did you finish college?" she asked, trying to sound as calm as possible. 

"Not really, I've been on my own since I was fourteen, and I couldn't afford to keep up a scholarship, so I didn't even bother."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Fetune apologized. 

"No, it's alright." 

The conversation then continued with a more up-beat tone, thanks to Fajr who had managed to turn the conversation around, and they ended up talking about Fetune's career, much to her embarrassment, and their amusement. 

"I listened to your songs growing up," Asya commented, and Fetune turned around and beamed happily at her. "Really?"

"Yeah, matron loved them, so they were always playing, and I loved your voice too, so I kept it up even after I left. I have a few of your old CDs at home, and try as hard as I can to tune in to your concerts on the radio," she informed her. 

"Thank you, darling. That's very sweet of you."

They pulled up outside a small two-story building. "That's it, I live on the ground floor." She pointed to the building in question. "Are you sure you know your way back home from here?" she asked.

"Yeah, I know this area like the back of my hand. I worked on a few houses here for extra-credit during my last two years of college," he told her, and she smiled. 

"Thank you so much for everything, I don't know how I can ever repay you for this," she thanked them once more. 

"Don't worry about it. It what anybody would've done, I'm just glad I decided to take that road, and had gotten there when I did," Fajr dismissed it good-heartedly. 

"Me too. Thank you." She said once more, placing a grateful hand on Fetune's shoulder, before she climbed out of the car. 

Fajr and Fetune waited till she waved at them from the threshold of her front door, before they finally drove off. Fetune didn't know why, but that girl's story had pulled at her heart, and reopened old wounds for her. "Fajr, do you mind coming with me to the cemetery tomorrow?" she asked, and he nodded. He knew why his mother wanted to go, he hadn't missed the seemingly innocent sentences that Asya said that had caused his mother's heart to ache. His brain had caught on to the memory as well, but he knew it was different for his mother. He knew that she sometimes went on her own, but when she asked him to go with her, he never said no. 


	3. Chapter 3

Almost a month had gone by since that night, and Fetune still could not get the girl out of her head. She had forgot to ask for a phone number, and when she and Fajr asked the detective for it the last time they were at the station, he told them that he can't release it without Asya's consent. 

Fajr was at work, and she didn't have anything to work on at the moment. Which gave her mind plenty of time to wander, and it always seemed to settle on the girl. Her shaky voice as she told her that she was an orphan, the pain in her eyes when the detective asked why she was going home so late, the barely detectable hitch in her throat when Fajr asked about her education. It broke Fetune's heart, the girl was struggling to survive, and the whole world seemed to be out to get her. She was pacing the length of her room, her mind going wild as it picked through the details of that night. She wanted to get in touch, but at the same time, didn't want to intrude. She whirled around in frustration, and her eyes caught the edge of the wooden box she kept hidden beneath her bed. That seemed to do the trick, and she made up her mind. She still remembered where the girl said she worked, so she stormed out of the room, calling out to her chauffeur to get the car ready. 

About an hour and a half later, she found herself in her car outside a sea-side cafe, watching the waitresses going by, and trying to find the girl in question. 

After a few minutes of looking, she gave up and decided to go inside and just ask. And this time, she wasn't leaving without some answers. 

"Tahsin, wait here, I won't be long," she said, as she exited the car. 

"Everything alright, ma'am?" he wondered. 

"Yes, I just need to check on someone." And with that, she made her way towards the cafe. 

The cafe had some tables indoor, and some placed outside, providing a unique view of the sea. She decided to try the inside first, and ask the manager about Asya. She never really liked using the fame card, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

She pushed the door open, and scanned the area for someone to ask, but her eyes landed on the girl she came in search for instead. She was standing in front of the bar, picking up some drinks for the waiting customers. 

She smiled, sighing in relief, as she made her way over to the still oblivious brunette. But before she could take so much as two steps towards her, the manager - who was nowhere to be found seconds ago - popped out of nowhere, and stood between them. 

"Oh my, Miss Karahanli, what a pleasure. It is an honor to serve you today," he greeted a little too eagerly for her taste, flashing her what she was sure he thought was a dazzling smile. And in all honesty, he wasn't doing anything wrong. He was simply in her way. 

She put her most fake smile on, and took the offered hand for a shake. "The pleasure is all mine. I love cafes by the sea, and you seem to run a very nice one indeed."

"Will someone be joining you, or just a table for one?" he inquired. 

"Actually, I'm here to talk to one of your waitresses," she interjected gently, her fake smile starting to become a forced one. 

"Oh?"

"Yes, Asya Demir."

"Miss Karahanli if she has offended you in any way, I am truly sorry, and I will fire her at once," he told her, before he turned around towards a still unsuspecting Asya. "Asya, can you come over please?" he called, not giving Fetune enough time to tell him the real reason she was there. 

The fleeting glimpse of confusion on Asya's face was replaced by unmistakable fear when her eyes landed on the famous singer, and she silently made her way over to them. 

"Yes, Mr. Taher?" Her eyes were flickering madly between her boss, and Fetune, but the older man - Taher as it would appear - gave her no chance to get in a word, as he immediately rounded on the girl. 

"Miss Karahanli seems to have a complaint about you, and I was not aware that she has graced us with her presence here before...." he started, but this time Fetune threw all caution and grace to the wind, and physically stepped between him and Asya, when she saw the blood draining from Asya's face at his words. 

"Mr. Taher, I think you misinterpreted what I said. I never had any complains about her, and I am truly sorry to tell you that this is my first visit to your cafe. I simply ran into Asya a few weeks ago, and came by to check on her," she explained hastily, her voice taking on a bit of a bite by the end. "And I was wondering if you wouldn't mind letting her have a few minutes away from work, so she and I can talk in private?" she asked, though her voice made it clear, that she was phrasing her request as a question out of courtesy, and that he didn't really have a choice. 

"Of course," was his simple answer, as he flashed her a tight smile, and gestured with his hand for a gobsmacked Asya to follow the older woman, who wasted no time in grabbing her hand, and pulling her outside the cafe all together. 

Once they were outside, Fetune allowed the smile to fall off her face, and she turned around to face Asya, who - to her surprise - was laughing softly. 

"You're laughing, he nearly fired you because I said I wanted to talk to you?" she asked incredulously. 

"Yes, well, you're the famous Fetune Karahanli, the only reason why you would want to have a word with me is probably because you think I have offended you in some way," she replied, her voice was much gentler, and held a lighter tone than the one she heard from her all those days ago. 

"And what's funny about that?" Fetune wondered. "How can you work for him when you know he can throw you out at any minute?" 

"He can't really, the owner likes me because I'm deligent, and most of the customers give me rave reviews. And that's not why I was laughing," she explained, and when Fetune looked at her questioningly. "Your fake smile is quite adorable."

That made Fetune smile, genuinely this time, a soft chuckle escaping her. 

"Ah, yes. The real one is much better," Asya commented. 

Fetune shook her head, her soft brown eyes connecting with ones that were eerily similar to her own. They were warm, with a haunted, pained look to them, but with an unmistakable glint of intellect. 

"Thank you, but that's not why I came," she told her, her voice soft, her hand instinctively reaching forward to tuck an errand strand behind her ear. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine. A police officer came by a few days ago, and had me look at a few pictures, to see if I can identify them, but they weren't there. He said that they haven't been back in that area since that night, and that one of the local bars identified them as regulars. So he said it was a matter of time," she told her. 

"Yeah, they asked me and Fajr to do the same."

"I'm so sorry for all the trouble I'm putting you two through," she apologized once more. 

"Asya, for the love of God, stop apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong. They did. They need to be caught, and we're more than happy to help," Fetune shot back firmly, and saw something flash in Asya's eyes, and it dawned on her. "You are worth it, sweetheart." Her voice had gone to a gentle, soothing timber. 

"Thank you," Asya whispered softly. 


	4. Chapter 4

As the days went by, winter was slowly dissipating, and giving way to the cool air of spring. The snow had slowly melted away, and the cold bite of winter was almost gone completely. 

Fetune sat in her usual table at the cafe she first entered a little over a month ago in search of a certain brunette, and had grown rather fond of the place. It had a magnificent view of the sea, their coffee was good, and it was fairly empty at this hour of the day. 

Deep down she knew that none of those reasons were why she really came here for her afternoon coffee, but she never really delved deep down, to avoid re-opening old wounds that are better left alone.

She sat at her usual table by the sea, and waited for Fajr to join her. They were going to have lunch together that day, and this place was close to his office. She was a bit worried since she didn't see Asya when she entered the cafe, and was quickly ushered to her table by the manager himself, who said that her usual order would be out soon, before he disappeared without giving her a chance to ask about Asya. 

She was slowly sipping her coffee, savoring the taste, frowning slightly at the almost imperceptible difference in her coffee. She hadn't been by in the past couple of days, being a little busy with looking over some papers for the textile company she inherited from her father, and speaking to the lawyer about her mother's account. She had promptly ignored the older woman's voice on the other end of the phone as she told the lawyer to ask Fetune if she could speak to her. It had been years, almost two decades to be exact, since she last saw or spoke to her mother, and she was still not ready to forgive her. Everytime she heard her name, heard her voice, looked at a picture, it reminded her of the pain, of the betrayal, of the abandonment. 

She jerked out of her thoughts when the chair next to her got pulled out, and she felt a hand on her back. She turned her head in time to see Fajr discard his laptop bag, and a few rolls of papers onto the chair, before he leaned in and kissed her gently. 

"Sorry, I'm late," he said, as he pulled back, and made his way around the table to sit in the chair facing her. 

"No, it's alright."

He frowned at the distant tone of her voice, so he leaned forward onto the table, and took one of her hands into his own. "Mom, what is it? You seem distracted." 

She looked up at him, her eyes gazing into his. He had his father's eyes, the same compassion and understanding shone in them as well, and the love swirling within those obsidian orbs never failed to melt her heart. She opened her mouth to answer his question, to calm down the worry she saw, but nothing came out. In all honesty, she didn't really know what to say. But luckily for her, a waitress showed up to take their orders, and Fajr frowned at the unrecognizable face looking back at them. 

"Ms. Karahanli, it's a pleasure to have you here today, and it's an honor to be of any service to you, and your son," the blonde fired off the greeting Fetune was sure her manager had put in her mouth. It was the same waitress who had brought her her coffee, but she had left without a word, and once again didn't give Fetune a chance to speak. "My name is Asil, and I'll be your waitress today," she continued, clearly not affected by the baffled expression on Fajr's face, and the slightly irritated one on Fetune's. 

She turned towards a still confused-looking Fajr, who was looking at his mother for an explanation, but she seemed to be trying to get her temper under control. She had seemed irritated on the phone when she asked him to meet her up for lunch, and he intended to find out why. 

"Would you like something to drink?" the chirpy voice of Asil pulled him out of his thoughts, and he forced a smile onto his face. But before he could get a word out, his mother seemed to have finally had enough, and her no-nonsense tone stopped the waitress from listing the available beverages. 

"Actually, any chance you can tell us where Asya is?" she wondered, and the girl paled. Her smile fell slightly, and became less of a welcoming one, and more of a forced one. It took her a few seconds to get her bearings, and that was all Fetune needed to know that the feeling at the pit of her stomach was correct; something was terribly wrong. 

"She's not in today, I'm covering for her. And don't worry, she told me how you like your orders," she fumbled, but Fetune saw right through it. 

"Can we get the check, please?" she asked, her tone letting Fajr know that whatever their plans may have been for lunch....they just got cancelled. 

* * *

Fajr pulled right outside the small two-story building he had dropped Asya at all those weeks ago, and Fetune practically jumped out of the car before he had even put it into park. He understood his mother's worry about the girl, and why she took a liking to her. The girl was smart, witty and funny. He had joined his mother often for her coffee at the cafe, and had chatted a few times with Asya. She even helped him once with a design he was working on, and he had been intrigued to see if it was a one-time thing, or if she really had the talent. 

His mother had already opened the gate, and was climbing the few steps to the door. He sighed one last time, before he followed her. 

"Asya," Fetune called a bit loudly, as she knocked on the door. "Asya, it's Fetune. Open up, sweetheart."

 

They both heard the shuffling of feet, before a surprised-looking Asya pulled the door open. 

"Ms. Karahanli!" Asya exclaimed in surprise, as she stepped to the side to allow her two unexpected guests in. 

Fetune threw her a look at the formal moniker, but went inside nonetheless. Fajr smiled warmly at the brunette, and she smiled back in greeting. "This is a nice, unexpected surprise," she said, as she closed the door, and ushered them into the small sitting area. "I'm sorry, I know it's not much," she apologized for the modest accommodation of the room. This time, however, Fetune rounded on her. 

"Don't be ridiculous, it's lovely, and enough with the formalities," she chastised firmly, but her voice still held such gentleness and warmth that Asya was not used to, and it still threw her for a loop. Asya smiled gratefully at her.

 

"I haven't been the cafe this week at all," Fetune started, as she shrugged off her light-weight jacket, and discarded it on the back of a chair, before she continued. "I went there today, and they said that you weren't in, but that apparently you made sure they know how we take our orders. Not that it worked, since they completely botched my coffee. But they were all acting strange, barely giving me a chance to speak, and when I finally asked about you, the waitress seemed flustered, and fumbled together the excuse," she told her, and Asya averted her gaze slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her wool jacket. "That, in addition to the surprised tone of your voice, as well as how you're fidgeting is making me think that there's more to that than what they say." 

 

Asya smiled nervously at her, as she crossed her arms across her chest, one hand rubbing the other arm in what Fetune realized was a gesture of self-soothing, making her heart ache even more. 

 

"Asya," Fetune called, her voice taking a much gentler tone than the matter-of-fact one she was just using. "What's wrong?" she inquired, as she got up from her seat, and perching herself onto the small coffee table in front of Asya. 

 

"He fired me the day after your last visit," Asya sighed defeatedly, and Fetune stared gobsmacked at her. 

"I thought you said that the customers loved you, and gave you rave reviews. That the owner liked you," Fetune listed the reasons she told her a mere month ago, and Asya grimaced. 

"Yes, well, things change I guess," she said nonchalantly. 

 

"What happened?" Fajr now asked, and she sighed. "I went to the police station to see if there was any progress on the matter, and the officer said that they haven't been seen since the night of the attack, that they stopped going to their regular bar, and that he had no more leads on them, so he was turning his focus and resources onto more pressing cases," she recounted what the officer told her, and both Fetune and Fajr gaped in shock and horror alike. "I was upset when I showed up for work, and I guess I made a few mistakes because I was distracted, because at the end of my shift, he handed me an envelope and told me that they no longer needed my services," she continued her tale, and Fetune could feel all the pent-up anger she had been pushing down for days now rising once more to the surface. 

 

"Asya, they can't do that," Fajr interjected, and she shrugged in defeat. 

 

Fetune was about to offer to talk to them, but then another idea struck her. "Maybe you can switch your shift at that art school you work at night in, so you don't have to go home at such a late hour," she suggested, and Asya scoffed. 

"I left it after the attack, I couldn't switch my shift because of the cafe, and the cafe's pay was much better, so I gave it up all together," she told them, and Fetune sighed. 

 

At that, Fajr seemed to have an idea, so he got up and pulled the chair at the table, where Asya was sitting, and sat down. "Asya, do you remember the little problem I had with the design a couple of weeks ago? The one you helped me with?" he wondered, and she nodded. "Well, the client absolutely loved it, especially the wife. She even loved the little dabble you did as a suggestion for the wallpaper, and she's using it."

"I already told you, I'm not gonna let you pay me for that," Asya interrupted.

"Yes, yes, I know. You made that perfectly clear. My point is, you clearly have a knack for these things, and an undeniable talent," he started, and she blushed slightly at the comment, especially when Fetune seemingly caught on to her son's trail of thoughts, and she smiled proudly at him, and encouragingly at her.

"I can't hire you as a consultant, because of the whole no-degree thing, but....." he paused, taking her hand into his, and squeezing slightly as he continued. "I can hire you as an assistant - temporarily - until you do get your degree, and then hire you as a consultant. You would be a great asset to the company, and I would hate to lose you to the competition," he joked, and she smiled. "We can pay for the school tuition, in exchange for an exclusive contract for a specific period of time," he added, and she shook her head. 

"I'll take the job, but not the money," she objected, but he shook his head adamantly. "Asya, large companies do that all the time, it's not a new thing. I won't take no for an answer on either offers. I already have another employee I'm doing the same for," he assured her. 

 

Asya was quiet for quite some time, before she finally nodded slowly, making both Fajr and Fetune smile broadly at her. 

* * *

As Fajr drove his mother home, he saw that she was aimlessly staring out the window, her mind evidently somewhere far away. He slid his hand over to the one she had resting on her knee, and gently squeezed her arm. "Are you alright?" he asked, when she finally looked at him. 

"I think I'm gonna go to the cemetery today," she told him. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, and she shook her head. 

"Thank you, Fajr, for the opportunity you gave her," she said after a moment's silence. 

"The idea has been brewing in my head since that day, but I needed to crunch some numbers to make sure we can do this for two employees at the same time. And I didn't really know how to approach the subject with her, and not have it sound like charity," he explained, and she smiled proudly at him. 

"A mother couldn't ask for a better son," she gushed lovingly, and he grinned ruefully at her.

"I just want to make you proud," he told her, and she nodded.

"You do, sweetheart. You do."


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks later, things were starting to finally settle back down at the Karahanli household. Fetune had gone back to managing her textile company, as well as her singing career. And Fajr was as busy as always with his projects. They had always made it a point to spend some time together in the evening, so the only time they ever really saw each other was over diner. She was happy when he told her that Asya was settling in nicely, that she was learning quickly, and how they came up with a way for her to help him with designs, and get paid for it. She had smirked slightly when he told her that Aida - another architect in the company, and one who had been trying to seduce Fajr - was immensely irritated by her. 

It was a quiet Friday evening, and Fetune had just finished going over the last of the stack of paperwork she had, when she noticed her son walking in through the door. She frowned slightly at the unexpected early arrival, her frown turning to one of concern when she saw the slumped shoulders, and distracted expression on his face. 

"Fajr," she said questioningly, worry evident in her warm voice, as she got up from the table, and made her way over to him. 

"Hey, Mom," he sighed, both in frustration and something akin to relief alike, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, and buried his head in her shoulder and neck, sighing contently when he felt her run her fingers in his hair soothingly. 

"What's wrong?" she wondered, and he simply tightened his arms around her. She pulled back slightly, cradled his face between both her palms, her worried, warm eyes clashing with his pained, troubled ones for a moment, before she silently guided him over to the couch, and they both sat down on it, as she guided him to lean on her. He wordlessly obliged, and allowed his head to drop in the crook of her arm, his back pressed against her chest, and one of his hands holding onto her own. She ran her hands through his hair soothingly, her soft singing voice carrying throughout the house with a tune she used to lull him to sleep as a child. He snuggled more into her, the tune a reminder of happier times, but also making a recent pain increase within him, and adding to his indecisiveness. He didn't know what had prompted him to do so, but at some point, he joined her in singing. 

Once the tune was over, Fetune pressed a kiss to his temple. "What's gotten my sweet boy so shaken up?" she inquired softly. 

 He sighed sadly, as he hugged one of the small cushions tighter to his chest, and allowed the soothing motion of her fingers in her hair to soothe some of the confusion away. "You remember Jude?" he asked, and she hummed in confirmation. "Well, he's been searching for his mother since he came here," he started, and Fetune stiffened slightly. 

"He's an orphan?" she interrupted. 

"Yeah, he was abandoned here, but the family that adopted him moved to Germany," he told her, a pained scoff escaping him at the end. "Not that they were any better than the orphanage," he hissed angrily. 

"They were abusive?" she sought confirmation, her voice taking on a sad tone. 

"That's putting it lightly, they were monsters. He and another kid - Yaman - who was a few years older than him ran away from them when Jude was ten. They took care of each other, and Yaman even managed to get Jude into engineering school," he recounted, and she smiled a little. 

"At least he wasn't on his own," Fetune stated. 

"That was until the asshole practically stole the girl he was in love with, and even had his men fire at Jude when he tried to stop the wedding. He barely survived," Fajr informed her angrily, and Fetune's heart ached. 

"That's why he came back to find his mother?" she realized, and Fajr nodded. "He found the orphanage, but they didn't have any leads on who his mother was."

"The poor thing," Fetune sympathized, as she tried to suppress the aching wound within her. 

"They did have a lead on his sister though," he told her, and she gaped at him. 

"His sister?" she repeated, not entirely sure she heard her son correctly. 

"His twin."

Fetune was sure that if she ever got her hands on that mother of theirs, that she would strangle the life out of her with her own hands. She could never understand how a woman could easily give up her child, let alone two. She used to go to the orphanage when Fajr was little, and it always made her heart ache when she saw all those beautiful, healthy kids who got tossed to the side, when she was desperate to hold her own child. 

"Did he find her?" she asked, and Fajr shook his head. 

"No, they told them she ran away when she was fourteen, and was never found. They gave him the address of an old doorman who was always especially kind to her, and who seemingly took an interest in her escape, and searched for her," he narrated the information Jude had confided in him that day. "But the address was an old one, and when he went there, the neighbors told him that the old man moved years ago, and they had no idea where he is now." 

"And he wanted your help with finding him?" Fetune provided when her son fell silent.

"I think I already know who his sister is," he said flatly.

"Excuse me!"

"I think it's Asya!" he deadpanned.

Fetune audibly gasped at his words, her fingers stilling in his hair, and the arm that was supporting his head going limp. He got up, and turned to face her. "The old doorman's name is Haqqi; Asya told me once before that she ran away from the orphanage when she was fourteen, and that Haqqi found her three years later," he listed his reasons for believing that Asya and the twin sister Jude was looking for were one and the same.

"Did you ask her about a twin brother?" Fetune wondered, and he shook his head. "She doesn't want to know anything about her family. She doesn't even want to know who her mother  is. Which is what's gotten me torn apart. Jude is desperate to find his sister, and I know who she is. But she doesn't want to know anything about her family, and he does. I don't know what to do." 

He was panting, exasperation lacing every word, as he ran his hands over his face a few times. Fetune's mind was still reeling with all the information her son just unceremoniously dumped on her, and she wasn't sure what to do either. 

"Fajr, are you absolutely sure it's Asya? We can't go tell him, and then have it all be a mistake," she pointed out. 

"I know, but I don't know how we can find out for sure." 

Fetune was silent for a few seconds, her mind racing to come up with a solution, when it finally dawned on her. "I think I do. Don't say anything to either of them, and leave it to me. I think I know how to find out if Asya really is Jude's twin." 

"But what if she doesn't want to know about him?" he wondered. 

"One step at a time, sweetheart. Let's be sure she's his twin first, and then we can deal with how to tell them after."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the story is a bit slow right now, but it's setting down some background information. I do promise it'll pick up later. Thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a beautiful afternoon, with winter now nearly out of the way, and the bright skies of spring replacing the gloomy clouds. Fetune sat in the backseat of the car, as Tahsin maneuvered the car through the small winding streets. It had been a week since her talk with Fajr, and she hadn't gotten the chance to put her plan into action yet. She had gone to the orphanage, and tried to get any more information out of them about Jude's sister, but they refused, per the girl's wishes. They did confirm, however, that she was indeed living with a man named Haqqi, but refused to confirm her name. 

And so, she decided to go talk to Haqqi himself, and just ask. But she wanted to do it sometime when Asya wasn't home. She had tried asking her about her family before, and the girl made it perfectly clear that she did not wish to know anything about them. 

The car pulled up outside the small building, and she smiled when she saw the older man sitting outside drinking some tea, as the tune of an old song filtered through the small, old radio by his arm. 

"Tahsin, I won't be long. Wait here for me," she instructed, as she stepped out of the car, without waiting for an answer. Not that she would've gotten one, since Tahsin looked like he was seeing a ghost. He kept staring at the small building, and the old man in disbelief. His brain replaying a memory he had fought hard to forget, but was never able to. A part of him desperately wanted to deny it, deny the possibility that after all these years, it would finally come to the light. But then again, here they were. 

"Bloody ghost of Christmas past!" he mumbled, as he watched Fetune enter the small yard, and the older man rise to greet her. 

"Ms. Karahanli," Haqqi greeted, and she smiled. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I do hope I didn't come at a bad time," she said, as she took his offered hand and shook it. 

"No, no. I will bring you a cup of tea, and please, help yourself to these delicious biscuits. Asya made them," he offered, gesturing with his hand to the plate in the middle of the small table, before he disappeared inside the house to fetch an empty glass. 

* * *

The construction work at the site was well underway, cranes lifting, rubble being moved, orders being yelled left and right, and a small table was set up in one corner of the site, with various people standing about it, pointing at different things on the spread out papers lying on the table. Standing in the center, was a young man, about Fajr's age, and he seemed to be in charge, as he was handing out most orders. 

 

"Jude!"Fajr called, as he made his way over to the table, nodding in greeting at various workers on his way. 

"That's all for now, guys," Jude dismissed the workers around him, as he started to roll the blueprints and bind them. "Hello, boss," he quipped, once Fajr stood next to him at the table. 

"Haha, very funny!" Fajr rolled his eyes. "Didn't you have a class today?" he asked. 

"I did, I just got here half an hour ago," Jude told him. 

"How many more hours do you still have?" Fajr asked. 

"Just one more semester after this one," Jude replied. "I know you want to start the new girl in May, so I'm taking as many classes as I can," he added. 

"Nah, it's alright. I made sure I can do it for you both before I offered her the job. I don't want you taking on too much. Killing yourself is not part of the job description, neither is it in hers," Fajr shot back. "I'm just nearing the end of my rope with Aida, and I need to at least have you graduated before her contract is up for renewal," he explained. 

"You won't renew it?" Jude wondered. 

"I don't think so. You're a hundred times the architect she is, even without the degree, and without the attitude," Fajr groaned. "And I don't know what her problem with Asya is, but she's gone crazy since I hired her."

Jude snickered. "She's jealous, man!" 

Fajr groaned as he rolled his eyes in annoyance. "You and my Mom would get along just great," he declared, glaring at Jude when he simply smiled. 

* * *

"So you're sure about all of this?" Fetune sought confirmation. 

"Yes, I was there that day. But she never asked, and when I tried to tell her, she adamantly refused," Haqqi answered. 

Fetune sighed. "Yeah, she told me she didn't want to know anything about her mother."

"That's not how she felt as a child," Haqqi said sadly, and Fetune looked surprised.  "What do you mean?"

"I used to beg her to go out to the yard when people would come over to adopt, and she would adamantly refuse, and if they forced her out, she would hide till they left. She wouldn't even come out when you used to come baring gifts," he started, and Fetune smiled sadly, her heart twisting at the hopeful looks she often saw in the little faces that greeted her. She never stopped sending toys and clothes - she still did it to this day - but she stopped going herself. She couldn't see the hope in their eyes anymore. "That's why I never saw her," she realized sadly. 

"Yes, she said she was waiting for her mother," he told her, and she gasped. "She believed that her mother would one day come for her, that she would know who she was and wouldn't need to look at all the other girls," he continued. "But then she ran away, and spent three years on the streets on her own, fending for herself against the cruel world, and when I found her - cheer luck that was - she didn't even want to hear a word about it anymore. And I couldn't blame her, living like that can turn your heart to stone," he finished. 

"But she's not cold, she's caring, loving, and has a beautiful soul," Fetune argued softly. 

"Yes, but all that disappears if anyone so much as mentions her mother, or the day she was left at the orphanage," Haqqi told her. 

"So it's true then," Fetune concluded. "Asya is Jude's twin, but she doesn't even know that she has a twin."

"He was adopted when they were barely a year old, I never told her about him, and I don't think anyone at the orphanage did either."

"Any idea on how to tell her?" Fetune asked. "Jude is desperate to find her, and I promised him I'd help him out. He's a great guy," she argued. 

"I don't know if we should tell her. You said he's trying to find their mother, and I just told you that Asya doesn't want to know," Haqqi reminded her. 

"Maybe when he finds Asya, and realizes that the woman never came back for her daughter, he'll let it drop. But we can't leave them both like this. At the end of the day, family's all we've got, and I know you don't want her to be alone at the end of the day," she shot back, her voice taking on a pleading tone at the end. 

"No, of course not. But I don't know how to do it," Haqqi said. 

"Leave it up to me, I'll think of something. But don't let on that something is going on," Fetune said, and he nodded. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teyza is Turkish for Aunt. It is usually used with a mother's sister, or someone related to the mother. It could also be used as a sign of respect for an older woman, who is like a mother figure.

After about a week of mulling things over in her head, Fetune finally came up with a plan to reunite Jude and Asya. She was going to need both Fajr's help, as well as Haqqi's. She knew her son would help her, but wasn't entirely sure the older man would be willing to. He knew as well as she did Asya's adamant refusal to know anything about her birth mother, and Jude was hell bound on finding the woman, as well as his sister. But she couldn't stand the haunted look in Jude's eyes any longer, how sad he always sounded when he spoke about chasing leads about his long lost sister, when she lived less than half an hour away from Fetune's house. 

And so with a plan in her head, she set things in motions. With the weekend coming up, she figured she can invite Jude over to have dinner with her and Fajr, and invite Asya and Haqqi as well. She used the excuse of Fajr's birthday to explain the get-together, and had even told Fajr to go out with Jude and his friends during the day, and come around five. That way she can talk to Haqqi, and try to butter Asya up to the idea. She knew Asya would jump at the idea of helping her cook a feast, and as she had already attested herself, she was a magnificent baker. And so, the first step, was to talk to Jude. 

She made her way down the stairs, freshly dressed for the day, and found her son already at the breakfast table, scanning through the headlines in the newspapers. "Morning, dear," she greeted affectionately, as she took her seat. 

"Morning, Mom," he said absent mindedly, and she frowned at him. 

"Everything alright, sweetheart?" she wondered. She hadn't seen him the night before, since he got in after she had already gone to bed, but he seemed fine the last time she saw him. Which was when he was getting ready to go to a dinner party with some of his clients. He had rushed out of the door to get to Asya's house on time, since he was her date for the night as they both joked. But now, now he looked like he just came back from a funeral, not a dinner party. And the absolute silence she was getting in response to her question was unnerving. He didn't sigh in frustration, didn't growl out some angry remark, didn't ramble on about whatever it was that upset him the night before. He just kept staring at the newspaper, almost as if he didn't even hear her question. 

"Fajr?" she called him, and he didn't even lift his eyes to meet hers. Which was rather disturbing, since he wasn't one to give her the cold shoulder. She reached over to him, and put her hand onto his forearm. That seemed to snap him out of his thoughts, and his eyes finally met her own. She frowned at the anger in them, mixing in with both sadness and frustration. She didn't know what could possibly get this reaction out of him, especially this early on in the morning. She hadn't heard him yelling into his phone, or barking out orders, so it couldn't have happened this morning. He was still sitting at the breakfast table, his plate completely empty, his tea untouched. He wasn't rushing out of the house, so it wasn't a work emergency, or problem. Which leaves the dinner party. Something must've happened then that upset him. And when she looked a bit closer at him, she noticed the exhaustion in his eyes, which meant he didn't sleep well either. 

"Sweetheart, what is it?" she asked, her hand now rubbing his arm up and down, as her other one slowly took the paper out of his hand. "Did something happen at the dinner party last night?" she tried again, when he seemed to be at a loss for words, and he nodded, but still didn't say anything else. 'Alright, twenty questions it is,' she thought to herself. 

"Did someone say something that bothered you?" she wondered, and he nodded. "Was it a client?" He shook his head. "Was it work related?" Once again, he shook his head. That seemed to give her an idea. "Was it Aida?" she assumed, and he finally nodded. She was never really a fan of the young architect, but she always knew she was smart. Even when she started to hit on Fajr, she did it subtly. She didn't think the girl was stupid enough to do something to elicit this reaction out of Fajr, and risk getting herself fired. The company that they owned was one of the oldest companies in the market, and getting fired from it didn't exactly help with future employment opportunities.

She leaned back in her chair, and eyed him warily, trying to keep her face from showing how she really felt about the girl. She didn't want to pour gasoline onto an already lit fire, but she had to know. "What did she do now?" she drawled out, biting the many other colorful words that were about to slip out back.

This managed to get a small chuckle out of Fajr. "You never really liked her, and if I told you about what she did last night......" he trailed off, a smile forming on his face as he pictured what his mother's reaction would be. And when he looked at her, he saw one eyebrow raised in waiting. 

"Well...." she urged him on with her hand.

"Just promise me you won't go into over-reacting motherly mode, and kill the girl," he teased, and she huffed out a laugh. "Well, whatever it is she said or did to you must be bad, if you were this quiet, so I make no promises," she said truthfully.

"She didn't do or say anything to me," he told her, his eyes saddening once more, as he looked at their intertwined fingers.

"No?" she was surprised. "Then....." she trailed off, suddenly knowing the answer to her unsaid question. Fajr was this protective over two other people, and she would rip people apart for said two people as well. But only one of them was in attendance the previous night.

"Asya," she breathed, and he nodded.

She knew why she felt that way about the girl; there was too much about the girl that reminded Fetune of the little girl she lost. They had the same birthday, Asya's eyes were the same shade of brown as Fetune's, and the same determination and enthusiasm Fetune had at her age. She took her under her wing the day she started working for Fajr, and had quickly realized that she was helping her heal an old wound that Fetune had buried so long ago. She was an orphan, a perfectly healthy baby who was thrown away for no apparent reason, when Fetune would've gladly given up anything -her soul included- if it meant getting her little girl back. She felt the same way about Jude, because she saw what Fajr's life would've turned out to be if she hadn't taken him in. They were mere months apart, so she couldn't help it when her brain drew parallels between them. She also understood why he felt protective of them, like her, he also saw what could've happened to him if he hadn't found a home. 

"What did she do?" she ground out through gritted teeth.  

"Remember Mr. Boran?" he asked, and she frowned slightly as she tried to place the name. "He was the first client Asya ever worked with. When she helped me out with that artistic problem I had with the decor, and even came up with a design for the wallpaper for his wife?" he reminded her, and she nodded. "Well, he was at the dinner last night, and he hadn't seen Asya since I told him about her ideas. So when I introduced them, he immediately recognized the name. There were a few other clients standing about, and he started singing her praises," he recounted, and she realized where that story was headed. 

"And let me guess; Aida was standing with you, and got jealous because all of the attention was on Asya, and not on her," she stated matter-of-factly, and he nodded. 

"Yeah, another client, Mr. Akarsu, was standing there, and made some comment about how maybe Asya should take a look at the new resort he's building, and see if she can figure out a solution to his problem as well," he continued. "The architect in charge for that project is Aida," he added, and Fetune snickered. She couldn't help it, she absolutely hated the girl, and what her son was telling her was not really helping. 

"I would've loved to see her face when he said that," she deadpanned, and he smiled. "It was priceless," he told her. "But that's when she decided to take Asya down, right in front of all the clients," he growled in frustration, and she narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. "What do you mean take her down?" she wondered. 

"She flat out told them that she's merely an assistant, and that having one good idea, doesn't mean she's got an eye for it, that she simply got lucky," he narrated, and Fetune's jaw clenched in anger. "And when I told them that she was actually studying to finish off her degree, so that she  _can_ work with us -hell, even head that department- she asked her how come she waited till she was twenty-six to finish college," he continued, and Fetune looked like she was about to breathe fire. "And it was brutal, she brought up the orphanage, how I even knew her," he finished, his tone rising slightly at the end. "Of course, I came to Asya's defense, and bit her head off. I explained everything to the clients, and they even praised Asya for what she did. Mr. Akarsu even flat out demanded that she take a look at his schematics, and that he will pay her as a private consultant, but Asya politely refused, and said she'll take a look at it." 

"Which didn't sit well with Aida," Fetune realized, and he nodded. "Yeah, I already worked out a way with the legal department for her to get paid for all of that in retrospect once I hire her, if the clients agree that she works with them without the degree. But it hasn't really happened since I hired her, so we never had to visit that subject. But Mr. Akarsu seemed pretty open to the idea. Even though, he may be doing it partially to spite Aida. But I don't really care. Asya's got a real eye for this stuff, and she comes up with ideas that are easy to do, and elegant at the same time. You know I've always wanted to get an interior designer on board with me for a while now, but haven't found one that I can work with quite as efficiently. I am not letting that girl go," he declared with finality. 

"So if it came down to her or Aida," she alluded. 

"Then it's Asya. I don't care if I have to break off her contract, and pay the fine in the contract," he said. 

"Then I don't really see what's gotten you so shaken up. It seems like if anything, what happened yesterday put Aida in her place," she pointed out. 

He nodded affirmingly. "Yes, I know. But you didn't see the look on Asya's face when Aida cornered her. And I saw them talking a few moments later, and right after that, Asya said that she called for a cab, and left the party. I tried calling her last night, but she didn't answer. And she's not answering this morning either," he told her, and she sighed. 

"How about I give her a call after breakfast? She never ignores my calls. Maybe she just needs some time to cool off," she soothed. 

"This is why you never wanted people to find out I wasn't biologically yours, isn't it? You didn't want me to have to face their judgemental looks and questions one day," he said affectionately, and she smiled. 

If anyone went digging, they would find that Fajr was Fetune Karahanli's biological son. Her name was on his birth certificate, and he was born in an era before there was such a thing as hospital records, so no one could actually prove that she didn't actually give birth to him. So unless, you take a blood sample and compare their DNA, no one would ever find out the truth. His biological father worked for her back in the day, and his mother had abandoned him at birth. His father was terminally ill, and had begged Fetune to take Fajr and raise him as her own. She didn't really need that much convincing though, she had just lost her own child, and had quickly agreed to the idea. The man died shortly after, and took the secret of Fajr's true identity with him to the grave. Fetune had always told Fajr stories about his father, and once he was old enough to understand, had shared with him the truth regarding his birth mother as well. He had taken it surprisingly well, and told her that he didn't really care about who the woman was, because as far as he's concerned, she was his real mother. 

The sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, followed by Amina's voice -their housekeeper- as she yelled that she got it. They started to eat their breakfast, when the unmistakable sound of friendly chatter reached them. They easily recognized the sound of Fetune's sister, Suheyla, as she spoke with Amina. Seconds later, the older woman appeared in the doorway. "Good morning," she greeted, as she made her way over to the table. 

"Morning, Teyza," Fajr greeted affectionately, smiling when she leaned down to kiss his cheek, before she moved around the table and sat on Fetune's other side. 

"So I got a weird call this morning from one of our clients," she started, directing her words at Fajr. The architectural company was hers, she had built it after she graduated from college with part of her share in her father's company, while Fetune kept her focus on both the singing and textiles. When Fajr went into engineering school as well, he immediately started working with his aunt, and by the time he graduated, he had his own name in the market, as well as his share in the company as well. So now that he was old enough to run the company, Suheyla hardly went to the office anymore. She fully trusted her nephew, and knew that he kept her in the loop regarding the major things happening. So it wasn't all that unfamiliar when she ended up with calls from clients, or for her to come by in the morning to discuss business. She usually stayed for the rest of the day with Fetune. They were both pretty close, and since Suheyla didn't have any children, she had more free time on her hands. So she recently decided to help Fetune out a bit with the textile company, and the occasional attempt to mend fences with their mother, to which Fetune would expressly shut down. 

Fajr raised his head from his near empty plate, and eyed her curiously, waiting for her to finish. "Mr. Akarsu called with a very  _specific_ request," she continued, and he nodded. 

"He wants Asya to work on his resort," he said, and she nodded. "That wasn't all. He also said that he doesn't feel comfortable working with Aida any more, that she doesn't really see eye to eye with him, and puts her own ego ahead of the work," she added pointedly, and he almost growled in frustration. 

"Damn it, I told him, I'll take care of it," he hissed, and she arched an eyebrow at him. "You wanna tell me what's going on? I may not be running the show anymore, but I am a member of the board. And I need to know if one of my architects isn't doing their job, or putting personal feelings ahead of their work," she chastised. 

Fajr put a hand up to calm her. "Teyza, calm down. Just hear me out first, and then you can berate me," he quipped, and she scowled at him. 

"Spill," she ordered, and he took a deep breath, before he once more recounted the events of the previous night. Suheyla's mouth was wide open in shock and horror alike by the time he was done, and Fetune's blood had reached boiling point once more, even though she was hearing this for the second time around. 

"She actually did that in front of clients!" Suheyla stated in disbelief, and Fajr nodded. "Yeah, she was really vicious. I don't know what her problem with Asya is. I mean at first I thought it was professional jealousy, but Asya isn't even gunning for her job. If she should be threatened by anyone, it should be Jude. And she doesn't even acknowledge his existence," Fajr exclaimed in frustration, and Suheyla smirked. "Oh, she's jealous alright, but it's not professional," she hinted, and he frowned. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"She's jealous of Asya, but it has nothing to do with her job. I know you don't wanna see it, but Aida was hitting on you. She was doing her best to get you to fall for her, and she figured since you spend as much time with her as you do, it was bound to happen," Suheyla started. 

"But then Asya came into the picture," Fetune picked up where Suheyla stopped. 

"And a blind man can see how protective you are of the girl," Suheyla finished. 

"There is nothing romantic going on between me and Asya," Fajr said adamantly. 

"We know, we know that she's like the sister you never had. Neither one of us is questioning that, but Aida doesn't see it that way. And I know Asya doesn't look at you that way at all, but once again, it's all in Aida's head. And she views Asya as a threat," Fetune shot back gently. "The fact that clients are fawning over her isn't helping either," she added.

"Nor the fact that you seem to like her," Suheyla chimed in. 

The sound of the doorbell interrupted whatever it was Fajr was about to say, and once again Amina called out that she's got it. 

"I actually wanted to talk to you about disciplinary action against Adia, since Mr. Akarsu complained. I have no intention of renewing her contract, I'm simply waiting for Jude to finish his last semester before I kick her out. But if she keeps this up, I'll fire her," Fajr informed her. 

A smile lit up Suheyla's face as she looked over Fajr's shoulder at the person standing in the doorway. "Speak of the angel," she said fondly. 

"Am I interrupting?" Asya wondered, and Fetune shook her head as she beckoned her over. "Nonsense, you're just in time."

Asya walked further into the room, and they all noticed the apprehension in her eyes, and the slight nervousness in her movements. Fetune rose from her chair, and hugged her. She greeted Suheyla, before she plopped down onto the chair next to her. "Morning, boss," she quipped, and Fajr glared at her. 

"Asya, so help me God, if you don't stop calling me that, I might just kill you," he fired back, the butter knife in his hand pointing threateningly at her, and she grinned cheekily at him. "Between you and Jude, I'm bound to end up in a nut house," he grumbled. 

At the mention of Jude's name, Fetune saw an opportunity to put her plan into action. "That actually reminds me. Asya, this weekend is Fajr's birthday," she started. "I'm having a little get together that day, and both you and Haqqi are invited."

"Thanks. I'll let him know. Anything I can do to help?" 

Fetune smiled radiantly at her, her plan was working out very well. "Well, I was kinda hoping you'd help me with the cooking. Amina will be here, but frankly, your baking is out of this world," she buttered her up, and Asya genuinely laughed. 

"No problem, I'll be here first thing in the morning," she assured her and Fetune smiled gratefully at her. 

"Good, now that this is out of the way," Fajr interjected. "I tried calling you last night," he spoke to Asya, and she averted her eyes. 

"Yeah, I had my phone switched off after I left, and I went straight to bed once I got home," she told him. "I was gonna call you this morning, but figured it'd be better if I spoke to you in person."

The fork that was on its way to Fajr's mouth halted mid-movement, and both Fetune and Suheyla looked at her worriedly. 

"That doesn't sound good," Fetune remarked, and Asya gave her a tight smile. "It's about what happened last night," she alluded, and Fetune nodded. "I take it you told them," she directed her statement at Fajr, who nodded. She sighed, running her hand through her hair nervously, before she looked at Fajr once more. "I really appreciate what you did for me last night, standing up for me like that," she started. 

"She was way out of line," he butted in, and she smiled. 

"Maybe, but at the end of the day, she's the one who brings in the clients. And...." whatever she was about to say died on her lips, as Fajr held his hand up to stop her. 

"Do you seriously think that if I had to choose between you or her, that I would choose her?" he asked incredulously, and the silence that followed was his answer. "Asya, I'm not stupid enough to take her side over yours when you're a thousand times better at your job than hers. Her contract is up for renewal soon, and I'm simply waiting for Jude to graduate to kick her out, and put him in her place," he told her, and she shook her head. 

"What? NO! You can't do this. Look, rivalry is normal in a workplace. Especially when she and I are basically the only two women around," she argued stubbornly. "I don't want her to lose her job over last night," she stated. 

"And that is why I'd take your side over hers any given day. Because you don't want someone to lose their job over something, despite being the one who got wronged, while she'd have no problem getting someone fired for not fawning over her. You're a good person at heart, while she's cold-hearted bitch," he deadpanned, and she was taken slightly aback by his bluntness. "And besides," he continued. "Rivalry is a good thing when it's not interfering with the work. But when said rivalry turns into flat out jealousy, and clients complain, then it's no longer good for business," he finished. 

"Clients complained?" Asya wondered, and he nodded. 

"I got a call from Mr. Akarsu this morning," Suheyla intervened, and Asya looked warily at her. It broke both Fetune and Suheyla's hearts to see her immediately expecting the reprimand, and blame. "He specifically demanded that you worked on his resort, and that we assign another architect to the project aside from Aida," she told her, and Asya's jaw hit the floor. 

"I can't believe...." she trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish the sentence, and Suheyla turned around in her seat to face her. "Asya, you need to believe in yourself a bit, believe in your talent. Believe that when people see what you're capable of, that they'll recognize how good you are. Believe me, the second you graduate, you'll be so buried in work, you won't have enough time to scratch your head," she assured her. "Trust me, all Fajr had to do to convince me of how good you are was show me what you did with Mr. Boran's condo, and the design you did for his wife," she recalled. 

"As for Aida," Fajr interjected. "You don't have to worry about her, I'll talk to her today."

Asya shook her head. "No, you don't have to do that. I won't exactly be going to any more of those dinner parties, so it's not like this could happen again," she objected, and he gaped at her. 

"Like hell you're not. You are not gonna make me suffer through those things on my own, you're gonna go whether you like it or not!" he decided with finality, and she laughed, as she shook her head. 

"Fajr, you were cut out for this scene. I wasn't. I grew up in an orphanage for crying out loud. I hate those functions," she whined, and he ignored the pang in his chest, as well as the heartbroken looks on his mother and aunt's face, as he shook his head at her as well. 

"Not gonna happen, you are coming with me! And I don't care if I show up to the door, and find you in jeans, I'm gonna drag you there!" he said stubbornly. 

"Can you hurry up then? We're gonna be late. We have a meeting with a new client in less than an hour," she hurried him along. 

"Almost done. I just have to find my keys, and my organizer," he told her. 

"I swear if you're head wasn't attached to your body, you would've misplaced it!" she quipped, and he rolled his eyes at her in annoyance. "You're like the sister I never had, and never really wanted!" he shot back cheekily. 

"You would've needed a reminder that you actually  _have_ a sister!" she retorted. "I now get the point of the portrait," she pointed to the almost life size portrait of Fajr with his mother. "It's so you would remember who your mother is!" she drawled out sarcastically. 

"Less sarcasm, and more help finding them," he hinted. 

"Keys are by the door, and the organizer is on the coffee table by the fireplace," she listed easily, without missing a beat.

"What would I do without you?" he drawled out sarcastically. 

"Whatever it was you did before me," she answered. 

"Which is why I'm eternally grateful for you," Fetune was the one who answered, and Asya smiled. 

She didn't know what it was, but she was never on edge around Fetune and Fajr. She was a bit apprehensive of Suheyla at first, but quickly warmed up to her as well. She felt safe with them, cared for. She didn't pretend around them, she was herself, and they accepted her for it. She felt something that she hadn't felt for a very long time......she felt wanted. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

The day finally came....the sun was up, brightly lighting up the day, reflecting off the Bosphorus, and streaming in through windows to wake the sleeping residents of different houses. The early morning breeze drifted through the open window, making the mobile hanging by Fetune's bed chime softly, as she fluttered her eyes open. She smiled softly at the picture of her and a young Fajr. He had his small arms wrapped tightly around her neck, and she was smiling radiantly at the camera as he kissed her cheek. Her eyes wandered over to the mobile hanging by the bed, and wistfully ran her fingers through it. It was the mobile she had gotten for the baby she lost a lifetime ago, and it was one of the few things she couldn't bring herself to get rid of. She had bought another one for Fajr, and he still had his to this day. 

She sighed contently to herself as she rolled onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling. She had realized a very long time ago that the wound of losing a child can never go away, it simply goes numb, and you learn to live with it. That, sometimes, it can flare up, and that was okay. She sometimes would indulge her mind in a bit of fantasy of what ifs before she would shake the delusions away, and rise up to face the day. But she didn't let her mind wander today, she had more important things to think about, and dwelling on heartache wasn't one of them. It was Fajr's birthday, and the day Jude was finally going to meet his sister. 

An hour later, found Fetune setting the table for one of the biggest breakfast feasts she has ever created, as she waited for Fajr and her guests to arrive. She had called Asya the day before, and told her to come have breakfast with her. And called Haqqi and told him to wait at home for Fajr and Jude to swing by to talk to him in Asya's absence, while she talked to Asya herself about the subject. She had even told her sister about the plan, and Suheyla had agreed to help Fetune, so she was coming over for breakfast with her husband as well. 

The doorbell rang just as she was putting the last plate on the table. "I'll get it," she called out to Amina, as she made her way over to the door. Selim -Amina's son- had already opened the gate door, so once she opened the door, she saw him taking some of the bags from Asya, as they both made their way over to her. 

"Good morning," Asya greeted cheerfully, and Fetune couldn't help but mirror her radiant smile. She didn't know what it was about that girl, but aside from Fajr, she was the only other person who always managed to draw a smile on her face. 

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said lovingly, as she kissed her cheek, and took the bags from Selim, just as the gate doorbell rang once more, and the teenager rushed to open it. "What's all this?" Fetune asked, as she led Asya towards the kitchen. 

"Some flavors, and toppings for the cakes and stuff. And some of the tools I use as I bake," Asya listed, and Fetune narrowed her eyes at her reprimandingly. "Why didn't you just call and tell me what you need? I would've bought them," she chastised, and Asya looked at her incredulously.

"It's the least I can do. I know it's not much, but I figured I'll go all out for him. He really has gone above and beyond for me, so have you," Asya retorted gently, her voice firm, yet thankful.

 "Asya, can you please stop acting like this is some kind of a debt that you have to repay? He saw your talent, and he hired you. It's really not all that much," Fetune objected firmly.

"Right. That's not all that he did, and you know it. And what about everything that you're doing for me?" she shot back. "You've taken me in, and you treat me like family."

Fetune smiled softly at her, and moved closer to her, before she took her face into her hands. "Believe me, you've done more for me than I've ever done for you," she told her.

Asya scoffed in disbelief. "Right," she whispered, clearly not convinced.

"Just take my word for it. And maybe one day I'll tell you the full story," Fetune spoke gently, and something in Asya twinged. "I'm glad I could help," was all she could say.

"Morning, ladies," Suheyla's husband -Osman- greeted cheerily as he entered the kitchen, followed by Suheyla.

"Morning Osman," Fetune greeted.

"Morning, Mr. Hussein," Asya greeted as well, as she kissed Suheyla's cheek in greeting.

"I hear you're our baker for tonight's festivities," Osman spoke, directing his comment at Asya, who smiled shyly at him and nodded. "Well, if the cupcakes you made before are any indication, we're in for a treat," he complimented, as he playfully patted his stomach, earning a laugh out of all three women, as well as an eyeroll from his wife.

"I hope so," Asya said bashfully.

"I know so!" Fetune deadpanned.

"I thought I heard you guys," Fajr stated, as he now made his way into the kitchen as well. "Why are we all standing here?" he wondered, after he was done greeting the newcomers, and they took that as their cue to head for the table. Three simultaneous whistles sounded when they saw the beautiful spread Fetune had laid out onto the table, the three culprits being Asya, Fajr, and Osman. 

"Damn Fetune," Osman complimented, practically drooling at the sight of the food alone. "Are you trying to make me fat?" he quipped, and she chuckled.

"Always!" she joked, as they all sat around the table. 

* * *

Breakfast passed in amicable chatter, with Osman tossing in the occasional joke here and there, and Fajr teasing Asya, only for his mother to jump to her defense. The childish bickering between Fajr and Asya warmed Fetune's heart, since Fajr never had that growing up, and she was immensely happy that he finally found that with someone. Especially when they would jump to each other's defense. The knowledge that at the end of the day, they had each other's backs, was heart warming as well. 

* * *

They were all in the kitchen now, helping Asya with the baking, save for Fajr, who went with Jude to meet Haqqi. Even Osman had his sleeves rolled up, and helping out when he can. 

Fetune and Asya were both working on mixing the ingredients of a cake, under Asya's guidance, when Asya looked up, finally noticing Fajr's absence. 

"Where's the birthday boy? I was half expecting that I would be shooing him every thirty seconds away from here, and swatting his hands away as he tried to steal whatever he could," she commented, and Fetune laughed, knowing fully well that if her son was in the house, they wouldn't be working in such peace. 

"He went with Jude to follow a lead about his missing sister," Fetune deadpanned, and both Suheyla and Osman went still for a second, exchanging a worried look, before they looked over at Asya to gauge her reaction. 

"Jude has a sister?" Asya wondered in surprise. Fajr hadn't mentioned it to her, and she had only met Jude a few times, so they didn't really get the chance to talk. 

Fetune nodded. "Yeah, a twin. They were both abandoned at the orphanage as well, but Jude was adopted when they were a year old, and she wasn't," she told her the story;  _her_ story. 

"So why is she missing now?" Asya asked. 

"Well, she told the orphanage not to release any information about her to anyone who asks, and it doesn't look like she even knows she has a brother, let alone one who's looking for," Fetune replied, trying her best to keep her voice leveled, but she was watching Asya closely out of the corner of her eye. The girl didn't look like she suspected anything. 

"That's harsh. And I'm guessing that even if they do find her, talking to her, and telling her the truth about him is not gonna be easy," Asya predicted, and Fetune nearly scoffed. She knew that both Haqqi and Fajr had tried to approach the subject with her, and she had adamantly turned them both down.

"I can't blame her," Osman suddenly pipped up, and Suheyla sent him a glare. They were supposed to help Fetune butter-up Asya, and get her to open up to the idea, not set in stone. But he promptly ignored his wife, and focused on the pair of haunted brown eyes that always made his heart ache, that were now looking at him curiously. 

"How so?" she wondered, genuinely curious. 

"Well, from what you told me, growing up in an orphanage isn't easy. She probably waited for some long lost family member to find her for years. She probably just doesn't wanna go down that rabbit hole once more," he explained calmly. 

"True. But there  _is_ someone looking for her. Her brother wants to be with her," Asya shot back gently, and Fetune nearly blurted out the truth right then and there. 

"So how do you suggest we tell her?" Suheyla inquired. 

Asya pondered the thought for a moment, before she inadvertently told them how to tell her about Jude. "Surprise her. Just show up on her doorstep with Jude, and tell her the story. But Jude has to be prepared for a really bad reaction if she chose to go that way. Because there are two scenarios for this, after the initial shock and disbelief wares off; either she's gonna accept it with open arms, seeing as it's something she's always dreamed of; or she'll run. Run away from all the emotions, from all the pain, from all the memories. So Jude just has to be sure that he's willing to handle all that."

* * *

Unbeknownst to Asya, about thirty minutes away from Fetune's house, Fajr and Jude were sitting with Haqqi in the small garden, as Haqqi told Jude the exact same thing. 

"You have to understand something; she's seen a lot, went through so much. She waited for years for your mother to come get her, but that never happened. She never knew she had a brother. I could never bring myself to tell her. I didn't know that the family that took you had been horrible to you, I thought you had a good life, and I thought it would add to her misery, so I just never said anything."

"I understand. You protected her, and for that I'm truly grateful. I don't know if I can ever repay you for that. It breaks my heart that she lived on the streets for three years on her own. I know what life on the street means, what it entails, and I wish I could've spared her all that heartache. But I can't change the past, I can't go back and save her. But I can protect her now, I can make sure no one hurts her again. Just please tell me who she is, and where I can find her," Jude pleaded with the older man. 

Haqqi smiled softly at Jude, pulled an envelope that he had on the table, and handed it over to Jude. When Jude opened it, he found three pictures. One had two newborns, both wrapped in blankets, both looking up innocently at the camera. 

"That's the two of you on your first day, you're the one on the left," Haqqi commented, and Jude blinked away the tears the suddenly sprung to his eyes, but they merely slid down his cheeks one at a time. Fajr smiled at the picture, as he patted Jude's back comfortingly. 

After looking at the picture a few times, Jude finally put it on the table, and looked at the second one. There were two toddlers, both standing next to each other, with the girl's chubby fist shoved in her mouth, as her big brown eyes looked at the camera. The innocent look was long gone, replaced by one of loss. Her brown hair framed her face in soft curls, while Jude's almost blonde hair fell straight. 

"This was taken on your first birthday, a few weeks before you were adopted," Haqqi provided, and Jude nodded tearfully. 

The next one was a heartbreaking one; Jude and Asya didn't look much older, but Jude had Asya wrapped in his arms, while she looked completely lost and abandoned. Fajr had never knew that a child so small can speak so eloquently with his eyes, nor can he feel such emotions, but he stood corrected. 

"I insisted on taking this one," Haqqi started, just as the phone rang from inside the house. "This was the last time you two saw each other, right before they took you away," he finished, as he stood up to answer the phone. 

"Why didn't he stop them?" Jude wondered brokenly. "Why didn't he keep us together?" he added. 

"There was nothing he can do. He was merely the doorman at the place, he didn't handle the adoptions or had a say in the rules. There is no law that forces people to keep siblings together, and the orphanage couldn't deny you the opportunity," Fajr reasoned, wincing slightly when Jude snorted bitterly. "What opportunity? They were absolutely horrible. And the second they had a kid of their own, they dumped me into an orphanage there," Jude shot back angrily. "Maybe if we had stayed together, she wouldn't have run away. You don't know what it's like to live on the streets, it's a nightmare. And it's a million times worse for a girl," he continued, his voice shaking with rage, pain, resentment, and so many emotions to label.

Just then, Haqqi emerged once more from the house, with a smile on his face. 

"How would you like to meet her?" he asked simply, and both Fajr and Jude looked dumbfounded. With Fajr looking at him in confusion. 

"Y...yo....you kn....know where she is?" Jude stammered, and Haqqi nodded. 

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards Fajr's parked car, with an almost imperceptible assuring nod in Fajr's direction, which was enough for the young architect to follow his lead. 

Jude wanted to ask a million questions, his head swam with a thousand thoughts, but he couldn't voice any of them. It appeared that the connection between his mouth and his brain had malfunctioned, and he was suddenly absolutely speechless. He followed Fajr and Haqqi to the car without a word, and silently got into the car. He didn't know his destination, had no idea what he would say to her......but the day finally came. He was going to meet his sister. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, a peck on each cheek is a normal greeting between people who are close in Turkey. The handshake is formal, and a peck on each cheek is a bit more friendly.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baba is the Turkish word for Dad.

Jude had expected them to take him somewhere close to where they were. Afterall, it was a low-income neighborhood, and it looked to be appropriate for his sister to be living in one. He had expected them to take him to a group home, a police station, to the low-income housing outside the city.....almost anywhere but Fetune Karahanli's house. He had been to the house a couple of times before when Fajr had fallen badly ill and he needed him to sign off on something. He had met Fetune many times when she would come over to see Fajr, and when he had begrudgingly agreed to attend some of the functions the company throws. He liked her, liked her very much in fact. She was warm, affectionate, always greeted him with a smile on her face, and he hadn't missed her mother's touch. It had pained him at first sometimes to see her interact with Fajr, but then she turned some of her affection towards him as well, and he found that it helped him put up with the ache in his heart regarding his missing mother, and gave him the motivation to try and find the woman. 

He looked warily at Fajr when all he did was simply park the car inside the garage, before both he and Haqqi exited the car casually. He followed suit, still confused, his eyes frequently flickering between his two companions and the large white house. "What are we doing here?" he asked, when he finally managed to find his voice. 

"You want to meet your sister, don't you?" Haqqi retorted, a warm smile lighting up his face, as he tried not to cry at the prospect of reuniting brother and sister. 

"Your mother knows where she is?" he directed his question at a smiling Fajr, still not quite sure what to make of the situation. Fajr smiled, cocking his head to the side, and then simply shrugged. "More or less," he said simply, as he pulled his keys out from his pocket, and opened the door. 

"Mom, we're here," he called, once they all stepped into the house, and Fetune immediately appeared from the living room, a beaming smile plastered on her face. 

"Come on in," she invited, as she moved towards the three men, just as Fajr's sense of smell finally caught up with the magnificent aromas filling the house. "Nice to see you again, Jude," she greeted affectionately, as she patted the young man on the back, and shook hands with Haqqi. "Thank you for coming over," she said sincerely, and Haqqi merely smiled. "I couldn't very well let down the birthday boy," he joked, trying to lighten up the mood. 

"Speaking of me," Fajr clapped his hands together. "I think I need to go....uh....make sure everything is up to par!" he quipped, as he made a move towards the kitchen, just as Asya appeared in the doorway. She had a serious look on her face, a raised eyebrow, as she threateningly pointed her index finger at him. "You," she warned. "Stay out of the kitchen or we'll be having your fingers for appetizers," she threatened, and he flashed her a dashing smile. "You can't really deny the birthday boy a piece of his own cake," he teased, but she simply glared at him, as she crossed her arms across her chest, and Suheyla -who had appeared next to Fetune - nearly spit the water she was drinking at how much Asya looked like Fetune when she did that. And it appeared that Fajr noticed it too. "Mom teach you how to do that?" he quipped, and she smiled sweetly - a little too sweetly - at him. "It comes with the DNA!" she alluded, and he laughed. 

With both Asya and Fajr focused on each other, neither of them had noticed Jude's reaction. He had met Asya two or three times when he swung by the office for one reason or another, and had spoken to her briefly, but didn't really know anything about her. A distant part of his brain made the leap, but he hadn't quite caught up to that part yet. But then Asya finally noticed Haqqi standing by the door, and the next thing she said made Jude's eyes bug out of his skull, as he took an instinctive step backwards, only for Fetune to steady him with a hand on his back. 

"Morning, Baba," she greeted lovingly, as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. 

"Morning, sweetheart. I didn't hear you leave the house this morning," he said, trying to keep the conversation going while Jude recovered from the shock. They both still needed to talk to Fetune and figure out the best way to spring the news on Asya. 

"Yeah, you were asleep, so I made sure to be very quiet," she told him, before she finally turned towards Jude. 

"Hi, Jude. Long time no see," she stated, extending a hand towards him. One which he shook hesitantly, as his mind went a thousand miles a minute, trying to process the shock he just received. She smiled warmly at him, before she heard the clinking of pans and pots in the kitchen and whipped around. "Fajr," she yelled in warning, as she dashed back towards the kitchen. Seconds later, the sounds of banter could be heard, and Fetune took the opportunity to signal both Haqqi and Jude to follow her outside. She threw a look at Suheyla, who simply nodded. "I'll keep her busy, but I think Osman and Fajr already have that covered," she whispered jokingly. 

Both men followed Fetune to the porch outside, and she made sure they were far away from the kitchen window. She was facing the door that led to the house, just in case Asya came out. She looked over at a still-shocked looking Jude, and smiled sympathetically at him. "Jude," she called softly, her heart breaking when she saw the lost look in his eyes. He looked back at the house, his eyes staring almost unseeing at it, as he visibly swallowed. "As.....Asya....she's....." he stammered, as his eyes moved between the grey-haired man, and the woman who looked as pained as he was, if that was possible. 

"She's your sister, Jude," Fetune affirmed, and he stared at her, slightly disbelieving. "Are you sure?" he whispered desperately, and she nodded. 

"Jude, I was the one who found you both on the door of the orphanage. I've watched her grow up, and I was the one who kept looking for her. It's her, she's your twin. Asya's your sister," he stressed the last part. 

"But she doesn't know," he stated, not really waiting for either of them to confirm, but they nodded nonetheless. 

"I never told her she had a twin, and when we tried to bring up the subject before, she adamantly shot us down," Haqqi explained, and Jude furrowed his eyebrows. "How long have you two known about this?" he wondered, and saw them trade a look, before Fetune relented, and replied. "A few weeks."

"Excuse me?" he exclaimed in both shock and slight anger. 

"When you told Fajr that you went to the orphanage and found out she was living with a man named Haqqi, he put two and two together. Especially when he saw when your birthday was, so he came to me and told me the full story," Fetune started to explain hastily. "I went to see Haqqi a few days later, and he confirmed that she really was your sister. We've been trying to ease her into the information since then, but every time one of us brings up, she shot us down. We couldn't very well tell you who she was, and then have her say she wanted nothing to do with you," she tried to reason with him, her heart breaking at the sight of tears in his eyes, ones that he was too proud to let fall. Probably due to years of holding back emotions. 

"What changed now?" he asked. 

"We thought that if I spoke to you without her presence, and explained the situation, that maybe you can start warming your way into her life before you tell her the truth," Haqqi started. 

"And now?" he encouraged. 

"Well, I was speaking to her while we were baking, and I told her that you had a twin sister. I basically told her her own story, but left out the part that it was actually her we were talking about," Fetune relayed. "She said that she thinks the best way to do this is to just spring the new on the girl, but that you have to be prepared," she added, and he looked at her questioningly. 

"Prepared?" he repeated, not sure what he needed to be prepared for. 

"Yeah, prepared for an obtuse reaction," Fetune spoke gently. "She said that the girl might shut down, push you away," she continued. "And knowing Asya, I think that's the reaction you should expect," she finished, and he nodded. 

"Yeah, the thought crossed my mind, and I don't really expect a welcome with open arms. She's been through a lot, and has every right to be wary, to take her time to try and absorb this. I won't push anything on her, I'll take her at her own pace, I just need her to know that she's not alone anymore. That she doesn't have to face the world on her own, to fend for herself," he nearly pleaded, and Fetune nodded. 

"You're a wonderful guy, Jude, and she's lucky to have a brother like you," she stated. "And I'm sure it won't take her long to see that for herself, and she'll welcome you with open arms before you know it."

"Any ideas on how to tell her now?" Haqqi inquired, and Fetune sighed, but Jude beat her to the answer. "I think we should wait till the end of the evening, I don't wanna ruin the day for Fajr, her or anyone else. And maybe spending the day amicably will lessen the blow later," he hoped, and they both nodded. 

"Let's go then, it's time for you to get to know your sister," Fetune said, as she guided them back to the house. Once inside, they could hear Asya and Fajr's bickering loud and clear from the kitchen. They all walked over to the kitchen, and smiled at the sight of Asya body blocking Fajr from reaching the things that were in the oven, as he tried to snatch what he could from around her. Fetune knew that only part of that was to keep Asya distracted, since Fajr always drove her crazy whenever she baked or cooked. 

Jude, who was looking at Asya, studying her, watching her as she laughed, glared at Fajr, and as she groaned in frustration, was smiling wistfully. He couldn't help but imagine himself in Fajr's shoes, this was always the life he had dreamed of, but never thought would get. And yet, here he was, standing in the kitchen with one of Turkey's most famous singers, as his twin sister bickered with her son. 

"Hey, a little help here," he heard Asya's cry for help, and smiled. "I would give up if I were you, there's no stopping him. Unless, of course you wanna spend the day here watching out for the cakes," he joked, and she glared at him as well. "Not helping," she hissed jokingly, as Fajr gloated. "There won't be anything left for the guests," she retorted.

"Pfff," Fajr snorted. "I can see enough things in the oven to feed a small village, I'm sure you can afford to lose a few cupcakes!" he shot back.

"Weren't you trying to find someone this morning? Why are you already here?" she growled, a futile attempt at a distraction. 

"The lead paid off, and we'll be talking to her as soon as the party's over," Jude informed her, trying his best to sound calm and leveled. 

"That's good," she said happily. "I'm glad you finally found her, and I hope she takes it well," she wished sincerely, and he smiled. "So do I."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit discouraged to continue this story from the lack of response, but lately it seemed that people discovered it, and have been responding well to it, so without further delay, here's the next chapter. It's shorter than I intended it to be, but hopefully the next one should be up shortly.

The sun was starting to set on Turkey’s capital, a few businesses were shutting down its doors, while restaurants and nightclubs opened. Some residents were getting ready for a quiet night in, and some were getting ready to head out. Some were already on their way to their destinations, like the guests heading over to the Karahnli household.

After the eventful morning they had, the rest of the afternoon went fairly calmer. They all sat around the living room sharing stories; some of ungrateful clients, some from Fajr’s childhood, Haqqi shared a few of Asya’s, and Fetune shared a few mishaps that she had during her singing career. All in all, it was a nice, laugh-filled afternoon. One that hopefully set the tone for the evening, eased the dread within Jude, and put Asya in a cheerful mood.

As the time of the party approached, Fetune took Asya up to a spare room to get ready, while Fajr took Jude. Haqqi and Osman stayed in the living room talking, while Suheyla went over to Fetune’s room to get ready.

“Come on in,” Fetune invited, as she opened the door to the spacious spare bedroom, where Amina had already placed Asya’s bags earlier.

"Thanks,” Asya said warmly, as she stepped into the room. “You really didn’t have to set up the room for me, I could’ve just used the bathroom, I’m only going to change my top and freshen up a bit,” she rambled hastily.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Asya. You really need to stop fussing about these things, I don’t do things that I don’t want just because I have to,” Fetune reassured her, before she turned her towards the bed, where a big box with a black ribbon and a bow sat. “Now open your present,” she instructed.

Asya looked surprised by the box, and turned her head questioningly towards Fetune. “Open it, and then I’ll explain,” was all the older woman said.

Asya sat on the bed, before she removed the lid of the box, and set aside the paper inside, her eyes gaping at the beautiful, simple and elegant emerald dress that was inside. Her head snapped up to look at Fetune, when the latter lowered herself onto the bed.

“You remind me so much of myself when I was your age, and I designed this dress when I was roughly around your age for a concert of mine. It holds a special place in my heart, and I could never bring myself to give it away, always saying I’ll save it for someone special,” she explained, her voice becoming softer at the end, and the inexplicable love she held for the young brunette shining through at the last word.

“Fetune, I…..no…..I couldn’t possibly……I mean……I love it……b….but it’s…..it’s too much,” Asya stammered, but Fetune shook her head. “Like I said, I saved it for someone special, and I can’t think of someone more special than you,” she stated simply, and the sincerity of the gesture made Asya speechless, as a few tears brimmed in her eyes. She pushed the box to the side a little, and moved to hug Fetune, who gladly welcomed the embrace.

* * *

 

About an hour later, Fajr and Jude emerged from the room, joining Suheyla, Osman and Haqqi in the living room.

“Asya still getting ready?” Fajr wondered, and Haqqi chuckled.

“She was never one to put much of a fuss into her hair and make-up, and she still doesn’t care about what people will say about her in general. But I guess things have changed,” Haqqi reminisced.

Fajr frowned, and Suheyla immediately understood what he meant, and felt a knot form in her stomach. “Why would they change? I love how fresh she always is, and that she’s not vain,” Fajr commented, and Haqqi smiled warmly at him. “Can you tell her that?” he requested, and Fajr – still not understanding – nodded his consent.

* * *

 

Fetune was finishing up with her make-up, when she noticed that Asya hadn’t left her room yet. She gave herself one final look in the full-length mirror, before she made her way over to the room, and knocked on the door. A muffled ‘come in’ sounded from the other side, and she gently turned the knob.

“Asya, everything alright? You need anything?” she asked, as she stepped into the room, before her eyes fell on Asya standing in front of a full-length mirror fussing over the dress. “Oh, darling, you look absolutely breath-taking,” she complimented, and Asya turned around to look at her, a shy, uncertain smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah?” she was never the self-conscious type. She knew what her social status was, what her limitations were, and she fully accepted them. She knew what she was capable of, and she worked her butt off to achieve it. She tried to buy clothes that would last her a good while, and mixed and matched them well. She always thought minimum jewelry and make-up is the way to go, and since she could never really afford a hair stylist, she never bothered with her hair. She thanked God every day for her genetics that gave her a head full of thick, beautiful, chocolate brown hair that was easy to take care of, and always looked styled even when she did absolutely nothing to it. And she was still the same girl for the most part, but this was different. If someone noticed something sub-par about her, it would be offending to Fetune and Fajr. They were both public figures and the press would stop at nothing to make high-sales. Catching her looking anything less than pristine around them would make them meat to the hungry paparazzi, and after everything they did for her, the last thing she wanted was to cause them any grief. So, whenever the occasion involved them, she found herself obsessing about how she looked.

Fetune smiled a bit sadly at the uncertain tone in her voice, as she moved closer to her, took her face into her hands, and planted a soft kiss to her forehead, careful not to leave any lipstick marks on them.

“You need to have a little bit more faith in yourself, you’re never this self-conscious at work which means that you’re worried about our image,” Fetune said, and Asya was gob smacked that the woman saw right through her. “Asya, Fajr and I love you for who you are, not for how you dress, or what you look like. We both grew up in money, and believe me when I say we both know that money doesn’t always equal substance. You’re talented, you went through an awful lot for someone your age, and you came out on the other side. Not only that, but you managed to keep your beautiful heart intact in all of that. And if someone – _anyone_ – so much as _thinks_ about shaming you or attacking you in a paper or in person, they’ll have me to deal with,” she assured her firmly, and Asya smiled tearfully at her.

“Thank you,” was all she could say.

“Now let’s go, guests shall be arriving soon, and we need to greet them.”

And with that, they both exited the room, and made their way downstairs.  


	11. Chapter 11

As the guests kept arriving to the white mansion by the Bosphorus, Asya had lost herself in the crowd and eased a bit when most of Fajr’s friends welcomed her with radiant smiles, and open arms. Even the few business partners they invited were very welcoming, and the ones she had already met were very happy to see her again. Fetune had caught Jude more or less staring at her a few times, longing and pride shining in his eyes as he heard the various work compliments some of the clients gave her. Fajr was of course enjoying all the attention he was getting, but he made sure to include Jude and Asya in it, and that made Fetune’s heart swell with pride. She had raised a good boy; he was successful at an early age, he was a hard-worker, he was a man of his words, and even though he grew up in money, he wasn’t a spoiled brat. He was modest, and treated everyone with respect, no matter their background. Unless of course they disrespected him, at which point he knew how to make them regret the day they were even born, without missing a beat. And to make matters worse, not only was Asya the same way, she seemed to be more of an expert at it than him, and he was apparently learning more from her. But Fetune knew her son would not use it to embarrass anyone who didn’t deserve it.

The party had been going for a little under two hours, when one final guest arrived, and Fetune could not help the growl that left her lips. Jude was standing near her, and immediately noticed the change in her attitude, so he made his way over to her in time to hear the growl. “Ms. Karahnli, are you alright?” he wondered, and she growled once more. “Jude, please, Fetune. And yes, I’m fine. But…..” she trailed off, as she signaled with her head towards the guest, who had immediately made a beeline for Fajr. Fetune did a quick scan of the room, and found Asya standing with Osman, Haqqi and a few other business partners chatting amicably. When Jude followed her line of sight, he smiled. “Yeah, Fajr said that you don’t care for her much,” he commented, and she chuckled. “Understatement of the century!” she scoffed. “She’s gunning for him, and I really don’t understand how he doesn’t see it!” she said in disbelief, and Jude laughed genuinely. “When I told him the same thing, he simply glared at me and said that you and I will get along great, and drive him crazy,” he joked, and she laughed.

They both stood there watching Aida interact with Fajr; the over-the-top flirting, unwarranted touches, obvious fake giggles at whatever he said, and so on and so forth. Both were rolling their eyes so hard, they were starting to get a headache. “What are you two lo…..oh!” Suheyla was wondering before she followed their line of sight, and joined them. “That does remind me, Jude, I called your university and asked about temporary degrees and such, and they said you finished enough courses to qualify for issuing a temporary degree, since you already signed up for the rest of them. So, stop by the dean’s office tomorrow and see what papers they need from you for that. We’re gonna need it as we draft your new contract, and it gives you a year to get us the official diploma or we terminate, so I’m not worried,” she explained hastily.

Jude was a little surprised and confused. “Sure, of course, I’ll get them whatever they need. But why the rush, if I may ask?” he wondered. But before Suheyla could answer, Fetune let out a motherly growl, “Oh no you don’t!” before she walked off, towards Aida, who had – shockingly – left Fajr’s side and was heading towards an unsuspecting Asya. Suheyla and Jude immediately followed Fetune, but stopped behind her at a small distance, but close enough to make sure they can intervene if Aida tried to turn it into a scene.

Fetune had been keeping a close eye on Aida as she spoke to Fajr, and even though she hated to see her trying to work her magic on her son, she knew that Fajr couldn’t stand her so he wasn’t gonna be fooled, and that he was more than capable of handling himself. She was just happy she wasn’t trying to embarrass Asya again, until she saw Aida spot Asya, and started to walk towards her with a devious smile on her face and a determined look on her face. So, she stalked off without excusing herself from Suheyla and Jude, and rushed towards her to stop her before she reached Asya.

“Aida,” she called, a little too sweetly, and Aida immediately stopped. “Ms. Karahnli, I was looking for you,” she offered, a sickly fake smile plastered on her face. Fetune forced a smile onto her face as well, but it probably looked more like a grimace than anything. “Listen, dear,” she said, and Suheyla face-palmed herself.

“Uh-oh!” she whispered to Jude, who looked at her confused. “If Fetune starts any sentence with ‘listen, dear’, you better know that your ass is about to be handed to you on a silver platter!”

“Fajr told me what went on between you and Asya during the last fundraising dinner,” she started, and saw Aida’s act start to crumble. “I don’t know what your problem with Asya is, and frankly, I don’t give a damn. But I do care about her, and she has become a part of this family,” she continued, and Aida’s jaw clenched. “So, if you even _think_ about pulling another stunt like that again with her, it won’t be Fajr you have to answer to, it will be me. Especially if you do it under my roof!” she warned, and Aida looked venomously at a laughing Asya. “Aida, you don’t want to test me. Stay away from her, and if you so much as look at her funny tonight, I promise you there will be hell to pay.” She told her, holding her gaze steady so she can see the seriousness and determination in her eyes. Aida stood looking at Fetune for a few seconds, contemplating her next move. But seeing the fire in Fetune’s eyes, and realizing that antagonizing one of the most powerful and influential families in Turkey is practically career suicide, she finally nodded, and headed towards a group of people who worked with her at Fajr’s company.

“This is why, Jude.” Suheyla answered his previous question. “Aida’s animosity towards Asya is starting to affect her work, and I’ve had complaints from clients. So we want you on board, before her contract is up for renewal.”

Jude was a little bit shocked, Fajr had already spoke to him about it, but he didn’t expect Suheyla to take such extraordinary measures to assure that he be on board. Like Asya, he never really expected things to go well for him. He thought that they would make him start from the bottom once more, before giving him a position like Aida’s – despite what Fajr told him – thinking it was probably company policy or something, and they would simply hire an outsider. But it looked like the worst-case scenario didn’t come true this time. On the contrary; he found his sister, was about to be reunited with her, and now one of the share-holders of the company basically told him that he’s hired for a prestigious job. The only thing missing right now is his mother…….oh how he wished she was there with them right now. He was becoming an architect, and Asya an interior designer, with a minor in fabric designs. He was sure that if she saw them, she would be proud, and maybe they will finally know why she left them that day at the orphanage. He subconsciously caressed the silver band woven between the leather strings that made the bracelet around his right wrist, as he imagined what it would be like to finally be with his mother.

* * *

 

The party had died down by midnight, and only a handful of Fajr’s close friends were still hanging about the house. So Asya decided that she should go change, and help Amina pack up the kitchen, so she can take her baking stuff. When she came down, she went straight to the kitchen, without noticing that Fajr’s friends had already left, and only Jude, Haqqi, Suheyla and Osman remained. She started to pack things up, finally allowing herself to breathe in relief when she realized the guests had devoured every last bit of baked goods. They all sang her praises, and she got more than a few offers for catering, which she good-heartedly turned down.

Fetune looked up from the hushed conversation they were having when she heard the distinct sounds of pots and pans cluttering together in the kitchen. “Is she seriously gonna start cleaning the kitchen at this hour? I told Amina she can do it in the morning!” Fetune commented, as she got up, and headed towards the kitchen.

“Breathe, Jude,” Fajr instructed, when he saw the way Jude tensed as the moment of truth finally approached them. They had already agreed that Fetune and Haqqi would handle the conversation, and the rest will depend on her reaction.

It wasn’t long before Fetune came back with Asya, who smiled warmly at Haqqi, before she plopped down onto the couch next to him. The toll of the day finally showing on her. “So, I’m here, what do you guys wanna talk about?” she wondered, and Jude was sure his heart froze in his chest, as Haqqi turned towards her and handed her the same three pictures he saw that morning.

“I’ve had these all along,” he started, as he pulled the three pictures from an envelope that was previously sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “I thought you’ll ask about your past one day, and thought they would come in handy,” he added, as she took them from him. Asya was confused, the first picture was a black and white picture of two babies, they looked like each other, were dressed in similar outfits, and because she knew fabric, it wasn’t anything cheap! The other ones were obviously of the same toddlers, and they were in much cheaper clothes by then, and she immediately recognized some of the people standing in the background. Her eyes traced over the little girl’s features thoroughly; she knew those features, those eyes, she saw them in the mirror every morning. Same haunted look, same sadness, same confusion……but no pain yet. And then there was the boy! There was no mistake that the boy was Jude; same hair color, eye color, and facial features. The picture where he was hugging her tight confused her a little, but also made sense. She wasn’t stupid, she had realized what they wanted to tell her. But she was scared, or maybe even unwilling to believe it. She needed to hear it from them.

They were all sitting very still now, watching the wide ray of emotions play across her face as she looked through the pictures. They saw the pieces slide into place in her mind, but also her hesitance to believe the conclusion that came with it. She finally looked up from the pictures, her eyes searching those of the man she had come to love as a father. She saw love in his eyes, understanding, relief – like the weight of something heavy was finally lifted from his shoulders – , happiness that she finally has someone to lean on other than him. He had found her sleeping under the balcony of one of the buildings near where they live now when she was seventeen. She had been living in the streets for three years, fighting off all kinds of evil on her own. She had run away from the orphanage because of the abuse she saw at the hands of one of the caretakers, and no one had believed her when she explained the bruises on her body. He never lied to her about how she came to the orphanage, didn’t tell her some sob story about how her mother couldn’t take care of her so she put her somewhere safe. She knew that she was left on the doors of the gate on one of the coldest nights in January, and that it was sheer luck he had seen the headlights of the car approaching the building, or she would’ve froze to death by the morning. And now she realized that they were two! That woman had thrown away two perfectly healthy babies…..for whatever reason it was.

He nodded softly at her unspoken question, and she tore her eyes away from him to look at Fetune, another person she seemingly had blind faith in! She found tears in her eyes, a loving smile on her lips, and the same ray of emotions that she saw in Haqqi’s eyes. And she too simply gave a nod to her unspoken question. Her eyes moved between Fajr, Suheyla, and Osman, all of whom had tears in their eyes, and warm smiles on their lips. And when her eyes finally settled on Jude, she saw more longing than she ever thought possible in his eyes. She held up one of the pictures, and finally decided to break the deafening silence.

“You’re the baby in these pictures?” she asked, and he nodded. “So that means…..” she trailed off, her brain suddenly at a loss for words.

“He’s your brother,” Fajr offered.

 “Your _twin_ ,” Fetune corrected, her voice slightly chocked.

“I tried to tell you many times, but…..” Haqqi’s voice drew her eyes back to him. “But I refused to know anything about that night,” she finished for him. Tears had been pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she was too proud to let them show. But the last sentence broke through her barriers, and her vision blurred from the tears; but she adamantly refused to let them fall. “So, the story that you were telling me this morning….” She directed her words at Fetune, who nodded. “Was your story,” she finished for her.

She nodded once more, before she looked at Jude once more. “I’m your sister!” she choked out, and he nodded, finally getting up from his place beside Fetune and Fajr, and walking closer to her. He sat on the coffee table in front of her, leaned forward slightly, but didn’t offer any form of physical contact. “Asya, I won’t force anything on you. I know it’s a lot to take in, and a big adjustment. All I want from you right now is to know that you no longer have to fend for yourself. That you’re not alone in this world, and that I will move heaven and earth for you if need be. You’re my sister, and with time, you’ll know that I don’t take that lightly!” he spoke softly, but the sincerity of his words couldn’t be denied, and all Asya could do was simply nod.

* * *

 

A few weeks went by, and spring was starting to give way to the scorching heat of summer. Jude – under orders from Haqqi and Asya – had given up his apartment, and moved in with them in their small house.

 _‘Why waste money on rent when there’s a perfectly good room here for free?’_ Asya had argued, quite convincingly. She was slowly starting to loosen up around him; they joked with each other, and would sometimes go out to grab a bite to eat after work, just the two of them; she allowed him to kiss her cheek in greeting when they ran into each other at work or home; she started introducing him as her brother to clients; but she was still a lot more open and at ease with Fajr – understandably, since she knew him longer – but that still left a pang in Jude’s heart.

They were sitting at the table having breakfast, both going over papers for a meeting they had with a client that morning. Jude had done what Suheyla told him, and gotten her the temporary certificates, so they immediately drafted a contract and hired him, much to Aida’s dismay. And Asya had also started school in addition to her work, so spare time came by so scarcely for those two. Asya looked up from her own batch of papers to take another bite of her breakfast, when she noticed that Jude was absent-mindedly tracing the silver band on his leather bracelet, a tic of his that she had noticed he did without knowing. She had been meaning to ask him about it, and decided that today was as good a day as any.

“Jude,” she called, and he immediately looked up from his work. “Can I ask you something?” she wondered, and he smiled. “Always, and anything,” he simply said, and she smiled genuinely at him.

“Where did you get this ring?” she asked, frowning slightly when she saw the hesitation in his eyes, mixed in with a hint of sadness. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she added.

“I just don’t want to upset you,” he stated, and she frowned. “It’s from our mother,” he said, and she immediately tensed. “The people who took me told me she left it with me, and used to take it away from me if I didn’t behave. I took it with me before I ran away from them, and I haven’t taken it off since,” he recounted, and she sighed.

“Jude, I know that you want to know who she is, and hopefully get an answer as to why she left us there. And I know you probably give her the benefit of the doubt because you were in Germany, so if she had looked she wouldn’t have found you,” she started, as she got up, and went rummaging into an old jewelry box of hers that he hardly saw her use, before she pulled out a long silver chain, with a smaller silver band hanging on it, as she walked back towards him. “But I was in the same place for fourteen years, and I never took it off either. If she wanted to come get us, she would have,” she continued. “I won’t stop you from looking for her, but I just don’t want you hoping for a happy reunion. I don’t wanna see you get hurt,” she finished softly, as she gave him the ring and the chain. “Keep it, I haven’t worn it in years.”

“We should get going, we have a meeting to catch,” he simply said, as he took it from her, and got up.

* * *

 

They got to the office a few minutes before the meeting, and they both went into Fajr’s office. Jude usually never went in there, since Fajr always came to him, and if he needed to show him something they usually met in the conference room, or the design room, and sometimes at the construction sites.

They were going over some last-minute details before the client arrives, when Asya noticed a new addition to Fajr’s desk. “Hey, this is new!” she commented, while Jude was going over the points that Fajr pointed out. He looked up and saw her grabbing a picture frame off the desk, and Fajr grinned back at her. “Yeah, I found it in an old box in my room,” he explained.

“Look how cute,” she cooed, stretching out the ‘u’ in the word to emphasize her point, as she turned the picture towards Jude, whose blood froze in his veins when he laid eyes on the picture. It was of Fajr when he was about six or seven, with the family’s chauffeur, Tahsin. Fajr was standing on top of a black Mercedes, with Tahsin holding his hand. And just in case he had any doubts, the license plates were visible in the picture.

_“It was a rainy night in January, one of the coldest ones we’ve had that year too. We were all cooped up inside the building, when I saw the headlights of the car, and realized it was slowing down by the gate. It wasn’t unusual for people to drop off babies in the dead of the night to avoid being seen, but they never arrived in an expensive car,” Haqqi recounted. “A black Mercedes, that year’s model. A man came out of it with two babies in his arms, and placed them by the gate. He ran when I called for him, and quickly drove away. I didn’t see his face well, but he had parked by the street lamp, so I saw the license plate….”_

 


End file.
